” He left her where she was, crying in the doorway. He was full of fabulous stories, not just tales of his own past in Rome but wonderful fables from the mysterious Orient and the ancient Greeks, old jokes and yarns that only he remembered. ’ Joan nodded, her face still averted. One of his converted Kanakas dropped in one day. “I have not the least idea who he is. ’ ‘Uh-oh,’ came from her infuriating suitor and his eyes dropped to the weapon she was dragging from the holster under her petticoat. At night she would turn it in her fingers like a rosary bead. I don’t want to tear at you with hot, rough hands.
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